Gertrude Miller

Family/Spouse: Samuel Herman Hoffberger. Samuel (son of Charles Hoffberger and Sarah Hollander) was born on 19 May 1888 in Baltimore MD; died on 30 Apr 1961 in Baltimore MD; was buried in Baltimore MD. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Notes:

NEW YORK TIMES OBITUARY
Jerold Hoffberger, 80, Owner of Series-Winning Orioles, Dies
By Richard Goldstein - April 13, 1999

Jerold C. Hoffberger, who owned the Baltimore Orioles when they won five American League pennants and two World Series titles in the 1960's and 1970's, died last Friday at Sinai Hospital in Baltimore after collapsing during a business meeting. He had celebrated his 80th birthday two days earlier.
Following a path established by owners like Jacob Ruppert of the Yankees and August Busch of the St. Louis Cardinals, Mr. Hoffberger, who had been president of the Baltimore-based National Brewing Company, blended the beer business with baseball ownership.

A native of Baltimore and a major benefactor of its educational, medical and religious institutions, Mr. Hoffberger played a role in bringing major league baseball to his hometown. When the Griffith family, owners of the Washington Senators, expressed opposition to the sale of the St. Louis Browns to Baltimore investors in 1953, Mr. Hoffberger offered to have his brewery sponsor Senator games. That deal helped soften the Senators' opposition to a nearby competitor for their fan base.

Mr. Hoffberger became chairman of the Orioles in June 1965 after purchasing the 40 percent interest owned by Joseph A. W. Iglehart. The following December, the Orioles obtained the slugger Frank Robinson from the Cincinnati Reds, a deal that helped propel Baltimore to pennants in four of the next six seasons.
When he was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1982, Robinson paid tribute to the Oriole owner's personal touch, saying that after a game, ''he wouldn't come over and slap you on the back and say nice game-winning home run, nice double, nice play or whatever.''

''The first words out of his mouth were: 'How are you? How's your family? Is there anything I can do for you?' '' Robinson said.
But when Mr. Hoffberger was a member of the Player Relations Committee, the club owners' labor-relations unit, he drew the ire of Marvin Miller, the players union leader. Mr. Miller accused Mr. Hoffberger of being the most active owner in efforts to break the players strike of 1972, saying that he had the other owners acting as ''puppets on his string.'' Mr. Hoffberger denied that, saying that he had often been on the losing end of ownership votes, and he called Mr. Miller's remarks ''the tactics of guys who are losing ground with their constituents.''

Despite the Orioles' success on the field, they did not draw particularly well at Memorial Stadium at a time when suburban multipurpose stadiums with better sight lines were being built. Mr. Hoffberger spent several years seeking new ownership, then sold the Orioles in August 1979 for $12 million to the Washington lawyer Edward Bennett Williams, who then owned the Washington Redskins football team.

When he had taken control of the Orioles, Mr. Hoffberger asked Frank Cashen, a former sports columnist and advertising director for his brewery, to run the team. Mr. Cashen was the Orioles' executive vice president from 1966 to 1975, then returned to a position at the brewery. In February 1980, Nelson Doubleday, the new co-owner of the floundering Mets, received an unsolicited phone call from Mr. Hoffberger, who suggested he hire Mr. Cashen as general manager. The Mets did that, and Mr. Cashen went on to build their 1986 World Series winner.
Jerold Charles Hoffberger, the grandson of a Baltimore ice and coal merchant, attended the University of Virginia and served in the First Armored Division in World War II. His father, Samuel, a major stockholder in the National Brewing Company, later brought him into the company.

Mr. Hoffberger was known for his charitable contributions, which included assistance to Johns Hopkins Hospital, the University of Maryland and Goucher College. Town & Country magazine estimated in 1983 that he had donated more than $10 million to charities.

He is survived by his wife, Alice; three sons, Peter and Richard of Baltimore and David of Arnold, Md.; a daughter, Carol McCarthy of Newark, Del.; two sisters, Lois Feinblatt of Baltimore and Rosel Schewel of Lynchburg, Va., and 10 grandchildren.

A version of this article appears in print on April 13, 1999, Section C, Page 23 of the National edition with the headline: Jerold Hoffberger, 80, Owner of Series-Winning Orioles, Dies



BALTIMORE JEWISH TIMES
Baltimorean Heroes of Israel Advocacy
By Connor Graham - April 19, 2018

Any individual accomplishment on the resume of Jerold "Chuck" Hoffberger is impressive enough for one person?s lifetime. Owner of the Baltimore Orioles for 14 years and owner of the National Brewing Company for 28 years are among his accolades.

Add to that list a stint as chairman of the board of governors for the Jewish Agency for Israel, during which Hoffberger was a part of meetings to plan Operation Moses, a rescue mission that successfully brought some 8,000 Ethiopian Jews to Israel, and his story becomes nearly inconceivable.

"He wasn't a guy who talked about his work much. He was much more interested in our pedestrian lives," said Hoffberger's son, Peter. "It wasn't at all that he was this tight-lipped guy who kept his cards close to his vest, he was just more interested in what we had to say."

Hoffberger's lack of disclosure wasn't exclusive to clandestine, potentially dangerous missions like Operation Moses. Peter remembers the way he learned of his father's first, and arguably greatest accomplishment as the owner of the Orioles, the signing of Frank Robinson.

"I don't think I knew about it until I was walking across the hall at Park School and saw Frank Robinson walk in with his kid," said Peter, barely able to control his laughter.

When asked at what point his father became involved in philanthropy, Peter replied, "Birth."

"His grandparents were exceedingly generous people," Peter said. "They were really planning to address a systemic social concern and eliminate it."

To end his phone interview with JT, Peter shared an anecdote to illustrate his father's ability to be a masterful negotiator, while also not taking himself too seriously.

Shortly after Hoffberger's death in 1999, the family went through one of his vaults, which contained a manila envelope with six documents. Although the majority of them Peter could not recall, two will forever stand out in his mind.

"One document was the owner's manual for his Casablanca overhead fan; the other was an advance copy of the Camp David Peace Accord, the body of which he had sought to influence at the pleasure of President Carter," Peter said, chuckling in disbelief. "On the Accord was a note in my father's handwriting, instructing his secretary to file it away and pull it out in ten years so they could see "how it was holding up."?



JEROLD HOFFBERGER
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia 5 Jan 2020

Jerold Charles Hoffberger (April 7, 1919 - April 9, 1999) was an American businessman. He was president of the National Brewing Company from 1946 to 1973. He was also part-owner of the Baltimore Orioles of the American League from 1954 to 1965, and majority owner from 1965 to 1979.

BIOGRAPHY
Hoffberger was a lifelong resident of Baltimore, Maryland, and was Jewish. He was the only son of his father Samuel, a lawyer who was active in the Democratic Party and a major shareholder and board chairman of National Brewing. His grandfather Charles had been a local merchant who sold wood, coal and ice. Hoffberger attended the University of Virginia. During World War II, he served in the United States Army with the 1st Armored Division in Africa, France and Italy, where he was wounded near Lake Bracciano, northwest of Rome. Jerold Hoffberger was also involved in the Battle of Monte Cassino.

BUSINESS CAREER
The year after the war ended, he was appointed president of the brewery by his father after the death of his predecessor, Arthur Deute. Under the younger Hoffberger's command, National's sales rose from 230,000 barrels in 1946 to two million in 1966.

BALTIMORE ORIOLES
In 1953, when the St. Louis Browns of baseball's American League wanted to move to Baltimore, the nearby Washington Senators, led by Clark Griffith, objected to the potential encroachment on their market. Hoffberger helped ease the way for the move by making his National Bohemian beer a Senators sponsor.[2] When Browns owner Bill Veeck was all but forced to sell the team, Hoffberger and attorney Clarence Miles put together a syndicate that bought the team for $2.5 million and moved it to Baltimore as the Orioles.
Hoffberger was the largest single shareholder in the Orioles, but was initially a silent partner with Miles (1954-1955), James Keelty (1955-1960) and Joe Iglehart (1960-1965). During this time, however, he bought more and more stock until he acquired controlling interest in 1965. He immediately brought in Frank Cashen, National's advertising director, as executive vice president. Under the direction of Cashen and general manager Harry Dalton, the Orioles won four AL pennants and two World Series from 1966 to 1971.
He was a 1996 honoree into the Orioles Hall of Fame, inducted with Cal Ripken, Sr. and Billy Hunter. 400 showed up at the luncheon at the Sheraton Inner Harbor Hotel.
When Baltimore Oriole star Frank Robinson was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1982, he made reference to Hoffberger. He said that after a game, Hoffberger "wouldn't come over and slap you on the back and say nice game-winning home run, nice double, nice play or whatever. The first words out of his mouth were: 'How are you? How's your family? Is there anything I can do for you?'."

LATER LIFE
National Brewing merged with Canadian brewer Carling in 1975. Hoffberger sold his share of the Orioles to Washington, D.C. lawyer Edward Bennett Williams in 1979.
Hoffberger was known for his charitable contributions, which included assistance to Johns Hopkins Hospital, the University of Maryland and Goucher College. Town & Country magazine estimated in 1983 that he had donated more than $10 million to charities.
In the early 1970s, Hoffberger purchased a farm near Woodbine called Sunset Hill Farm (formerly Helmore Farm) in Howard County, Maryland where he bred Thoroughbred horses for racing. While primarily a breeder, he did race horses on his own, notably winning the 1984 Razorback Handicap at Oaklawn Park Race Track.
Hoffberger died at Sinai Hospital in Baltimore, two days after his 80th birthday.

Family/Spouse: Alice Berney. Alice was born about 1926 in Maryland; died on 4 Feb 2016 in United States of America; was buried in Reisterstown, Baltimore County, Maryland, US. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Other Events and Attributes:

• Married Name: Blum, Blum Feinblatt

Notes:

JEWISH WOMEN'S ARCHIVE

When I went to work, no woman in our strata of society worked because they wanted to work. I've been working 45 years now and I'm so glad. Life is so much richer. --Lois Blum Feinblatt

Born in 1921 to Baltimore's Hoffberger family, Lois Blum Feinblatt has focused her professional career, volunteer efforts and philanthropy on providing mental health, adoption and mentoring services in Baltimore. Lois married Irving Blum in 1941 while still a student at Hood College. (She later graduated from Goucher College.) After the birth of their three children, Pat, Jeff, and Larry, Lois worked for the Baltimore City Department of Welfare for nine years, screening prospective adoptive parents. In the 1960s, she was one of eight women chosen for a special program at Johns Hopkins University to professionally train housewives as mental health counselors. As a therapist with a specialty in human sexuality, she joined the newly formed staff of the Hopkins Sexual Behaviors Consultation Unit, where she has worked for more than 30 years. After her husband died in 1973, Lois married lawyer, Eugene Feinblatt, with whom she shared a wonderful marriage for fifteen years. A true liberal politically and socially, Lois has been a thoughtful philanthropist both within and outside the Jewish community, focusing much of her attention on issues affecting children.

Baltimore Magazine
Corey McLaughlin - Feb 2019



LUST FOR LIFE

At 97, pioneering sex therapist Lois Feinblatt shares what she has learned about love and life.

"Life is so interesting, isn't it," says 97-year-old Lois Blum Feinblatt. She should know. In 1966, when most women her age were stay-at-home moms, she was already a trailblazer, working in Baltimore's department of welfare, where she screened every couple in the city who was interested in adopting a child.

"I loved it," she says, but even five decades ago, Feinblatt twice married, twice widowed, with three kids, two step-children, and seven grandchildren was never one to settle. One weekend, a friend showed her a headline in The Baltimore Sun. "Hopkins to Train Housewives as Psychotherapists," it read.

Feinblatt was intrigued, as she still often is. At almost 100, sitting on a flower-patterned upholstered chair in her spacious and art-filled north Baltimore apartment, her gray hair tucked into a bun that frames a soft face and curious blue eyes, she remains sharp and quick-witted while recalling decades-old details of her life.

Before her job with the department of welfare, Feinblatt had volunteered as a Parent Teacher Association president at a city public school and was endlessly fascinated by what she saw, the complexity and desire of the human mind. "If I had my choice then, I would have been a psychiatrist," she says.

And suddenly, right there in the newsprint before her, was an unlikely opportunity. A program like the one advertised had been organized a few years earlier at the National Institutes of Health in Washington, D.C., which sought to train therapists drawn from what was then described as an untapped resource pool of married women.

Now Johns Hopkins wanted to do the same. The ad specified that applicants should be over 35 and have "successfully" raised a family.

More than 400 women applied. And Feinblatt, then 45 years old with three kids (Patty, 17, Jeff, 19, and Larry, 23) was one of only eight hired.

"She brought an enormous amount of life experience to her job," says Dr. Chester Schmidt, who worked with Feinblatt for four decades. For the first two years, Schmidt, now the clinic's medical director, was among the psychiatrists who helped train the group of eight, who immediately started seeing patients.

By 1970, hospital leadership made plans to start a first-of-its-kind clinic modeled after the work of pioneering sex researchers William Masters and Virginia Johnson, who had shocked the public with candid and demystifying talk about orgasms and sexual dysfunction. When they stopped in Baltimore at the hospital to present their research, Feinblatt, who was forced to sit on top of a baby grand piano because the auditorium was so crowded, was fascinated. Later, she was asked to be part of the startup Johns Hopkins Sexual Behaviors Consultation Unit, which began to see heterosexual couples in a therapy setting in which they were seen together by male and female therapists.

"It was a wonderful job from the very beginning," Feinblatt says. "People had all kinds of sexual problems. Some people were very shy about sex, or some people had their own ideas and their wife or husband didn't think they could go along with that. Everybody's needs and wants are so different."

If there is anyone who might be an expert on the secrets and nuances of love and sex it would be Feinblatt, a pioneering therapist who has seen four decades worth of patients: women, men, straight, gay, transgender. She often jokes, "A marriage license is not like a driver's license," says Dr. Chris Kraft, co-director of clinical services at what's now known as The Johns Hopkins Sex and Gender Clinic. "You need all this training to drive a car, but you don't have to have training to be in a relationship."

Until fairly recently, Feinblatt continued to head to the office almost every day. "One of the biggest things going on now," she says, "is that we have a transgender person almost every week, a drastic change from when she started."

Indeed, Feinblatt's career and remarkable life have spanned sweeping social changes: from the pre-birth control era to internet porn addictions, from abstinence before marriage to legal gay marriage and marrying outside of one's religion. Years ago, when she was just 7, her uncle married a Catholic girl, and her Jewish grandmother hung blankets over the mirrors in her house as if the family was sitting shiva. "It's so amazing how much everything has changed in my lifetime," she says.

Feinblatt has seen and heard just about everything in matters of the head and heart, but even she hesitates to articulate the meaning of it. "Love," she muses, "Well, it's a difficult thing to try to get your brain around, because it's sort of not a brain thing."

A friend showed her a headline in The Sun: Hopkins to Train Housewives to Be Psychotherapists.

The start of Feinblatt's own love story reads like a script to a romantic black-and-white movie. On a spring break from Frederick's Hood College, then Lois Hoffberger one of three children of Gertrude and Sam, a prominent city lawyer who was active in the Democratic party and a major shareholder and director of the National Brewing Company met Irv Blum, six years her senior, at an engagement party held for one of his friends. The night ended at the Belvedere Hotel. There, Irv asked her to dance, their images reflecting in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors of the first-floor Charles Room. "It's amazing," she says. "It's 75 years ago now, and I can remember it so well, seeing myself dancing with him."

He drove her back to Hood in his snazzy convertible, wind whipping as they headed east through the mountains. He sang a German song, "Yours Is My Heart Alone."

"He was being so romantic," she says. It was practically love at first sight. With the clouds of World War II brewing, they wed in 1941 and started a family. But only eight months after Lois gave birth to their first child, Irv was overseas with the Army as the white captain of an all-black transport unit, known as the 524th Quartermaster Car Company.

It was then that the handwritten letters, addressed to "Sweetheart" he to her, her to him were exchanged nearly every day for the two years Irv was deployed, about 1,400 correspondences in total. On June 6, 1944 D-Day Lois wrote: "I'm sure you know how much I have thought of you today. Although 3,000 miles apart, I know we've spent this most important day in our history together."

In a letter dated three days later, addressed from "Somewhere in England," he acknowledged the anxiety his young wife must have felt, and said he was okay. "Everyone is imbued with the idea of getting the job over with," he wrote. In other letters, Lois, then 23, mentioned the Wives Club she was a part of and how she spent time volunteering at the American Red Cross.

"They developed an intimacy through these letters," says Feinblatt's daughter Patty Blum, a human-rights lawyer who is working with her mother on a book about her parents' correspondence. "Until I started reading them, I had no concept of everything their relationship had gone through, the experiences and challenges they had as this young couple separated for close to two years, and how they maintained their intimacy despite this distance."

Lois Feinblatt's own love story reads like a script to a romantic black-and-white movie.

By 1945, Irv had returned from the war and gone to work at his father's department store. When their youngest child was in second grade, Lois and Irv agreed that it might be a good idea for her to take a job to help foster their children's independence. After nine years at the department of welfare, Feinblatt landed her dream job at Hopkins.

Although she can't divulge any specific details about her patients, Feinblatt says some cases were as simple as correcting bad habits that had formed, while other patients struggled with more complicated issues. "Homosexuality was on the list of abhorrent behaviors in 1966, and that went on for a long time," she says. Patients came in hoping to be cured. She saw one lesbian couple, from a conservative Pennsylvania town, for two years.

Mostly, though, she treated women having sexual intimacy issues with their husbands, including extramarital affairs. "I know we can cause ourselves a lot of unnecessary problems," she says. "It was so important," Feinblatt says, "to provide a safe space where couples could actually address those problems. You can have meals with other people, have fun with other people, or go on vacations with other people," she says. "But marital fidelity is something that you and your partner have just with each other." Which, of course, is where a licensed therapist comes in.

Feinblatt continued her work against the backdrop of tumultuous times, which was fitting given the liberal bent sewn into the fabric of her upbringing. She marched to help desegregate Gwynn Oak Amusement Park in 1963, was the first woman on the board at Sheppard Pratt Hospital, has since founded scholarships to the Maryland Institute College of Art, and helped to start Court Appointed Special Advocates (CASA) of Baltimore, which seeks to protect foster kids.

In 1965, Johns Hopkins Hospital drew national attention for being the first academic institution in the U.S. to perform sex reassignment surgeries. These were done in conjunction with the sex clinic, which required and provided two years of pre-surgery therapy. There were some staffers at the hospital who were ambivalent, at best, about the surgeries, but Feinblatt wasn't one of them. She supported a person's right to define their own gender, even when that was a controversial opinion.

Then again, Feinblatt was always putting her patients first. "Schmidt, the clinic's budget administrator for three decades," said Feinblatt, "who was financially comfortable, donated fees she earned from patient work back to the department. I thought it was terrific," he says, "but I wasn't surprised. That's just the kind of thing she'd do."

And the clinic gave her a lot, too, providing a much-needed professional focus when her dear husband Irv, who had been a president of the Associated Jewish Charities, died at age 58, in 1973, after becoming sick from glomerulonephritis, a kidney disease. To help her work through her grief, the clinic gave Lois more patients to help occupy her time, and she co-founded an organization dedicated to supporting adoptive families.

Three years later, she married Eugene Feinblatt, who had been Irv's lawyer and the college roommate of her older brother Jerold (a former president of the National Brewing Company and one-time owner of the Baltimore Orioles). "I was lucky," Feinblatt says. "I had two fabulous husbands, and such really wonderful men and interesting men. Both were important in the community, and ethical, and brilliant minds."

Lois and Eugene were married for 15 years, until he died in 1998 from heart failure at age 78. Once again, she moved through her grief by continuing to work. A year after Eugene's death, she started a teacher-mentoring program in the city. "Life is a challenge, and bad things happen to good people," she says. "The best thing that can happen to you is your partner, so you at least can deal with things together. If you really think that you're in love, you're lucky."

She treated women having intimacy issues with their husbands, including extramarital affairs.

Just five years ago, at age 92, Feinblatt stood on stage at Morgan State University to give a 13-minute TED Talk entitled "Choices We Make." Making "sometimes hard or unusual choices," she said, "is what we all must do in order to live an interesting, fulfilling, and worthwhile life. As times change, so must we."

Today, with the aid of a walker, Feinblatt still regularly attends art exhibits, dines at the newest restaurants, welcomes company, and hosts dinner parties, as is evident by the liquor tray in her apartment. "You see her everywhere," says Kate Thomas, another co-director of clinical services at the Johns Hopkins clinic. "She's a Renaissance woman, and we all adore her."

In October, Feinblatt was honored at the Open Society Institute's 20th anniversary celebration at The Baltimore Museum of Art for her philanthropy and service to the city. Alicia Wilson, a senior vice president and legal counsel to Kevin Plank's Sagamore Development Company, introduced Feinblatt, whom Wilson met when she was 18. "She taught me that being authentically me is the best gift I can give to this world," Wilson said.

Sitting beside Wilson on the auditorium stage, Feinblatt took her turn at the mic. "They gave me the choice to speak or not," she said. "I thought a few minutes, and I decided, I'm 97-and-a-half years old. . ." Applause interrupted. "I can't depend on being asked to speak again." The crowd broke out laughing.

As for her longevity and sharpness, Feinblatt attributes it to luck and diet. "When Birds Eye [frozen] food came out, that was a big thing that changed our family's eating habits," she points out. Feinblatt is often quick with a quip about her advanced age. "You don't have many people almost 100 years old to ask [that question to]," she cracks at one point during an interview at her home. But she is also reflective.

"The two things that have made my life as good as it?s been are love and luck," Feinblatt says. "You have to have luck, too. But I really believe that love is like a cushion. If I'd been sitting here all this time on a hard, little iron chair, I would be miserable. But love is like the cushion that's around you, that makes you be able to think about things in a sweeter way."

Lois married Irving Blum on 10 Jul 1941 in Baltimore MD. Irving (son of Samuel Blum and Fannie Goldstein) was born on 28 Jun 1915 in Baltimore MD; died on 10 Aug 1973 in Baltimore MD; was buried in Baltimore Hebrew Cemetery, Reisterstown MD. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Lois married Eugene Feinblatt in 1983 in Baltimore MD. Eugene was born on 28 Oct 1919 in New York NY; died on 17 Jul 1998 in Baltimore MD. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Other Events and Attributes:

• Married Name: Schewel

Notes:

ROSEL HOFFBERGER SCHEWEL OBITUARY
Baltimore Sun on Oct. 1, 2017

Rosel Hoffberger Schewel, a native of Baltimore, passed away peacefully surrounded by family on September 28, 2017. With her death, Lynchburg, Va. lost an extraordinary citizen-a philanthropist, teacher, scholar, mentor, political activist, founder, board leader, and a champion for public education, racial justice and the rights of women.

Rosel's first and deepest commitment was always to her family and friends. She and Elliot Schewel shared a loving marriage for 68 years. While raising her family, Rosel also had a distinguished career as a special education teacher and later as an Associate Professor of Education at Lynchburg College, falling in with a group of exciting young scholars. Perhaps unique in American education, Rosel not only served on the faculty of the college but chaired its board of trustees as well. On top of her professional career, Rosel's civic involvement was remarkable.

Her Park School high school yearbook bears this inscription beneath her photograph: "An iron fist in a velvet glove." Nowhere was her iron fist more in evidence than in her first civic involvement in Lynchburg as a Girl Scout leader. As president of the local Girl Scout Council in the early 1950s, Rosel insisted that the new scout camp, Camp Sacajawea, allow black and white scouts equally to attend. Some board members resigned in protest, but Rosel persisted and succeeded. Rosel's specialty was founding and building institutions. At the end of her life, she said that her proudest achievements were helping to found the Lynchburg League of Women Voters in the early 1950's, the Women's Resource Center in the 1970's, and Beacon of Hope in the 2010's.

Rosel was a feminist and proud of it. When local women formed a group to recruit and fund women running for office, they named it "Rosel's List." Rosel was the first woman to serve on the board of Virginia Baptist Hospital, the first woman to serve on and chair the board of Lynchburg College and the first woman to serve as president of Agudath Shalom Synagogue. The great cause of her final years was Beacon of Hope, the non-profit she cherished whose mission is to enable all of Lynchburg's high school graduates to get a post-secondary education.

Rosel was a graduate of Hood College, received M.Ed. and Ed.S. degrees and an honorary doctorate from Lynchburg College. She is survived by her husband, former Sen. Elliot Schewel; by her children, Steve and his spouse Lao Rubert, Michael and his spouse Priscilla Burbank, and Susan and her spouse Lizzy Schmidt; and her grandchildren, Laura Schewel, Elias Schewel, Abraham Schewel and his spouse Lauren Lee, Benjamin Schewel and his spouse Keri, and Solomon Schewel. She is also survived by a newborn great-grandson just born to Ben and Keri-Elliot Daniel Schewel.

Funeral services for Rosel will be conducted by Rabbi John Nimon at Agudath Shalom Synagogue at 11:00 am on Monday, October 2. In lieu of flowers, Rosel requested donations be made in her name to Beacon of Hope, P.O. Box 1261, Lynchburg, Va. 24505. Tharp Funeral Home & Crematory, Lynchburg, is assisting the family. To send condolences please visit tharpfuneralhome.com.

Family/Spouse: Elliot S Schewel. Elliot was born on 20 Jun 1924; died on 15 Dec 2019. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Family/Spouse: Ellen Cassedy. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Family/Spouse: Harry Chotiner. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Family/Spouse: Judith Smith. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Family/Spouse: Hannah Forman Flack. [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]

Meg married Kamar Samuels [Group Sheet] [Family Chart]